


Gotham County High School

by ticks



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gotham County High School, Joker says "fuck" a lot, LGBTQ Character, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Harm, Teenager Problems, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8176931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticks/pseuds/ticks
Summary: First day of school can’t be that bad, can it? Being a sixteen year old famous billionaire attending a community high-school can’t be that bad, can it? Blending in and not drawing attention to oneself can’t be that hard, can it?Yes, yes and yes. It can. Bruce Wayne, a home-schooled, spoiled goodie-two-shoes billionaire wanted something different for himself but didn’t realize just how different life could get attending Gotham County High School.





	1. Get Me Out

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it goes. My second fanfiction to ever be posted. I felt like I had to have something lighter and easier to write in between the chapters of "The King's Fool and His Puppet" so this somehow took shape. These chapters will be slightly longer and more elaborate, don't ask me why but writing this one is simply easier. And I love including Alfred, he's just such a babe.
> 
> All of the characters are more or less out of character. The Joker has a man bun. Just imagine, how sexy that would be. He's also a no-scars-edition. Might be adding those later on, you never know.
> 
> I think I'm going to name these chapters after songs depending on the Jokers mood, thoughts and whatever he feels like atm. Aaand, that's about it. Until next time, enjoy!

Any ordinary sixteen year old boy would know how it felt going back to school the first day after a longer break by heart after more than 10 years when the one thing occupying his days, forcing some kind of daily routine and order was school.

However, Bruce Wayne was not an ordinary sixteen year old boy. He had inherited more money anyone could spend in a lifetime- a steadily growing amount- at the age of eight after witnessing his both parents being shot dead; this particular sixteen year old boy was far from ordinary.

After the decision was made, that he would attend the public school, Gotham County High School, a few months back had yet not succeeded to turned Bruce’s worldview upside down. He figured it would be a valuable experience he had to go through in order to remain somewhat normal.

Bruce’s butler and occasional guardian Alfred had addressed the issue when he had turned sixty-five this past spring. He no longer found a reasonable excuse for Bruce to be home-tutored for longer than he needed. Alfred made it clear to him he wanted more for Bruce but when the then sixteen year old boy came one night interrupting in the heat of one of Alfred’s poker nights with the ’ol’ pals’, addressing the issue, letting his guardian know he wanted to attend the local school and not any of the fancy once he found online, Alfred was rather shocked.

Bruce, recalling the night, remembered the smell of scotch and cigars but most of all the laughs. All of the men sitting around the table had attended the best schools abroad and had the best education money could buy, and here a young, foolish billionaire came talking about attending something other than a private school. How bizarre, they probably thought.

”Alfred, I thought you raised this one better,” said one of the men, mustache bobbling up and down as he tried not to laugh too much, ”of course he should attend Philips Exeter Academy!”

”No, no, no my friend, better send him of to England. Harvard or Yale.”, another one commented, sounding like an old horse in Bruce’s opinion. Well-behaved as he was, he didn’t snap back at the man.

”For christ’s sake, the boy is going to High School, not University, Tom.” It was Alfred who spoke up, shutting the laughing bunch up. ”Master Bruce, you should return to your bedroom and we’ll speak more of this matter in the morning.”

”But, Alfred-”

”It’s my night off, do Master Bruce remember that? It’s sacred and not to be violated as spoke our agreement. Now off you go.”

The day afterwards Alfred had apologized for what he referred to as snapping at the young boy and Bruce had obviously, out of good manners, apologized too. He had never intended to make Alfred angry with him as that was one of his least favorite moments in life. Alfred was his rock and his best friend, whenever the storm was raging he comforted the youngster. And he did the best god damned cranberry pudding Bruce had ever had the good fortune of eating.

Speaking of the devil, there was a rapid knock on the door and in came Alfred, as usually dressed in a black, shiny blazer paired with a couple of matching pants and the regular bowtie, horizontal to the ground, never being crooked. Bruce wondered how he did it; always looking so professional. He had tried getting the butler to lay off with the fancy dress-code but Alfred simply refused, not letting Bruce to speak or have an input in the matter. So he let the butler dress himself as long as he didn’t interfered with the teenagers clothes of choice.

”Master Bruce, you’ve been on that bloody computer for more than seven hours today. What can possibly be so time-consuming?”, he asked with a straight face, simply folding one hand over the other waiting for an answer.

Oh, right. Bruce had lost track and the screen had gone black. His reflection stared back at him, mimicking every movement and every muscle-twitch.

”I’m researching, Alfred.”

”What could you possibly have been researching for the past hours? I haven’t seen you all day, soon you’ll forget all about me and I’ll end up having to re-polish the cutlery set to keep my mind occupied.”

”Don’t be so dramatic, old friend. First day of school’s tomorrow and I need it to be perfect,” Bruce told the butler who could merely hid all the excitement for Bruce to go off on an adventure alone. The butler couldn’t have been happier, in fact, dead eyes was giving Alfred away.

”Who do you call ’old’, Master Bruce? Wait and see, when you come of age you will figure out it’s the adolescents of this world who makes you feel old. Your mind will never go past the age of twenty.”

Maybe the butler was right but Bruce figured the best way to get the butler to lay off his case was to pretend to invest all of his attention into the laptop, pretending to read, eyes following imaginary lines.

Alfred took no offense when Bruce pretended to ignore him, instead he decided to leave the teenager alone in his bubble, preparing for what he claimed to be ’the biggest day in his life’. Alfred had chuckled, quietly, not wanting to pop the bubble just right yet. Master Bruce had to go and explore the world alone, of course Alfred would be there somewhere in the background whatever Master Bruce decided to do. After all, he was one hell of a good butler.

When the butler left, Bruce slammed the computer shut after reading some helpless article about ’dressing to impress’ on the first day of school. The first official day of the term had already started. It would be two weeks tomorrow. Having attended a medical appointment in Europe, Bruce hadn't been able to make it when school reappeared into the lives of teenagers all over the U.S.

The principal of Gotham County High School had been very cooperate and accommodating. At least that was what Alfred had told him. He had only met the man once. Gordon, he thought the principal’s name was. Like the cook he had met from Scotland during a gala he had been to a couple of months ago, only more tired-looking with big glasses.

Bruce spun around, now lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling trying to recall every piece of information he had gathered in the last hours. The articles all said the same; come prepared, make a lot of friends, join a club, survive until you can get the hell out of there. In theory it wasn't hard, Bruce had already been through every minute of his first day attending Gotham County High School at least twice a day for the last weeks.

Bruce heaved himself of the bed going over to his closet. Dress to impress. He thought about it. The pictures on Google were all photos of teenagers, casually dressed. Bruce couldn’t find anything particular fancy about any of them. So ’dress to impress’ couldn’t mean ’put on your fanciest suit and expensive Rolls Royce clock’.

Maybe jeans? Yeah, jeans could work.

Bruce went trough his wardrobe in a matter of seconds before giving up, grunting in frustration. Half of every clothing-piece he owned now lied spread over either the floor, bed or desk.

Nothing was fancy enough. Nothing was casual enough.

”Master Bruce?”, Alfred knocked on the door while he peaked inside, also grunting when he saw the mess the youngster had caused.

”Don’t worry, I’ll clean it later,” Bruce calmed the old man, before turning to face Alfred who had a silver tray in both hands, carrying a clear white plate with soup and two slices of bread lying on another flat, white plate to the side.

”Alfred what does _dress to impress_ mean?” he asked, curiously.

”Oh, if you ask me Master Bruce, I’d say when you dress real fancy to get, let’s say a young lady’s undivided attention just by simply dressing for the right occasion.” That made sense, but not in the same content Bruce had in mind.

”Figured you would be hungry, Master Bruce. After all of your hard work, you truly need some food.”

”Ha. Ha. Very funny, Alfred.” Bruce smiled though, the old man could still lift tons from his shoulders with his bad jokes and inputs. Alfred responded with one of his warm, wrinkly I-love-you-too-smiles as he cleared enough space on Bruce’s desk to put down the silver tray.

”I’ll leave you to it then, whatever this madness is,” he obviously meant the mess of fabric covering the flooring and the interior.

”Good-night, Master Bruce. I suggest you get some sleep, it’s only…,” he looked at his clock, ”…only seven hours before I’ll wake you. 6 o’clock?”

”Perfect Alfred. Good-night to you, too.”

When Alfred had left him for the night Bruce simply couldn’t bring himself to fall sleep. Too many unanswered questions and thoughts swirled around in the head of the youngster.

Finally drifting off around 2 A.M, he dreamt only bad dreams. Violent, blood-filled dreams that made absolutely no sense.

 

* * *

 

As Alfred had said the other night, 6 o’clock Bruce’s bedroom door creaked open. The room was dark and quite chilly, if you asked Alfred. But it was how Master Bruce preferred it so he kindly complied to the youngsters liking.

From the vague smell of sweat Alfred could tell Bruce had been dreaming again. And not the kind of dreams one would prefer. Alfred had found to give Bruce a cup of lavender tea just before bedtime helped nine out of ten times.

”Master Bruce? It’s time to wake up.” He lightly stroked the boy over the cheek with the back of his hand, observing as the teenager blinking his eyes open, stretching as he yawned.

”I’ll go turn on the shower for you. When you’re ready breakfast will be served in the kitchen.”

Bruce purred in approval. Once his morning stretch was done, Alfred was long gone. Bruce sat up, feeling rather disoriented, but he still put down one leg after the other on the floor. He stood up in just boxers, took up the t-shirt he had worn yesterday from the floor and half-hearted dressed himself only to make his way to the bathroom. Rather unnecessary but Bruce still went through the trouble.

He had intended the shower to be a quick one when he stepped out of the shower twenty minutes later. Oops. He blow-dried his hair and styled it using some hair product he had gotten from Alfred last christmas.

While loosing himself in his reflection, staring into a pair of hazel eyes, Alfred had grown impatient. A knock on the door woke Bruce up from his hypnosis state. ”Yeah?”

”The tea is getting cold.”

”I can always make a new cup when I come down.”

”The tea is getting cold.”

”Alfred? Are you- are you crying?”

”No, no, I’m not. Don’t mind me, just, eh come when you’re done.”

Bruce felt a sting of guilt. The last couple of weeks had all been about this day. So many times Bruce had dreamily spoken to Alfred about it without even once thinking about how his guardian felt about it. He couldn’t make himself seem selfish, careless maybe, but not selfish. He reminded himself to do something for the butler as saying thank you. Right now he had to get back into his room, still being cluttered with various outfits.

He finally settled for a pair of black, skinny jeans with a white shirt. To top it of he figured he’d bring a grey sweater as well. It would have to do.

In the kitchen he found Alfred just about to pour him a new cup of tea. If the man had been crying, Bruce found no traces of it. Alfred must have pulled himself together, not wanting to worry the youngster.

”Good morning,” Alfred spoke slowly as he now read todays news-paper while trying to have a early conversation with the teen.

”Morning.”

Bruce drank his tea in silence. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything so he remained quiet while eating two sandwiches with cheese and strawberry jam.

”So, are you exited for your first day in school?”

It sounded so surreal, partly because Bruce was sixteen and had never even been to a school. He had no friends attending school, most of his network was business people working their butts of or rich people who invited him to galas and fancy parties where he just showed up if Alfred felt it was absolutely necessary.

”I guess. Honestly, though? I think I might puke any second.”

”It’s just the stress and excitement. It will fade in a couple of weeks, I promise Master Bruce. Today will be a day to remember, I can feel it.”

Alfred’s encouraging words made the youngster feel a tiny bit better, yet he feared his breakfast would re-enter this world any minute now.

”Time to brush your teeth. I’ll park your car of choice outside and wait for you to come.” Alfred smiled though Bruce wasn't sure it was a happy smile. He looked kind of sad and Bruce didn’t like it. No, not at all.

”Take the, eh, Cadillac. It was a while since she got to stretch her legs.” The youngster was sixteen and already owned five cars; once he saw one he fancied he simply bought it, never thinking about the price tag. Alfred had put the limit at five though, so whenever Bruce wanted a new car to care for he had to get rid of one. Fair enough the youngster thought. Just another year and he could finally drive them himself without Alfred in the car, looking like he saw death whenever Bruce sat behind the wheel.

Alfred simply nodded as he put down his news-paper. ”Make sure you have everything packed, Master Bruce. Wouldn’t want to give this day a reason not to be perfect.”

”Yeah, yeah. Got it.”

The teen felt uneasy for leaving his butler. He had thought it would be simple but with each step he took outside of the manor once he had brushed his teeth and fetched his navy colored bag from the room, he decided this was a bad decision. He just didn’t have the guts to tell Alfred about it.

As Bruce closed the door, joining Alfred inside of the car, he had to suppress the growing feeling aching in his body. He wouldn’t have a panic attack, not now. He didn’t allow himself to whether feel nor think.

Both men put on their best mask in front of the other, pretending to be OK. None of them spoke during the twenty minute drive to Gotham County High School, not even glaring at each other until the car came to a halt.

”So, Master Bruce… Here at last.”

Bruce hadn’t realized the car stood parked right below the campus, clutching his jeans until the point when his knuckles turned white from cramping, trying to comfort himself.

The high school looked huge and the student’s looked busy either going by bus, bike or walking to another normal, boring day at Gotham High.

”Do you have everything now, Master Bruce? Notes? Pens? Phone? Schedule?”

”Yes, yes, yes and… yes. Checked before we left home.”

Alfred gave hime a proud smile, leaning over the clutch lever to lightly pat him on the back since hugging would’ve been quite the struggle.

”Now, go on. I wouldn’t want to make you late for your first class.”

”Yeah, I’ll see you after school? Will you pick me up?”

”If that is what you want, Master Bruce, then I’ll be here. Say 4 o’clock sharp?”

”I’ll text if something comes up.”

”Good-bye, Master Bruce.”

Somehow Bruce got out of the car and went straight for the main building. Alfred shouted something so he turned around, still walking.

”Master Bruce, you forgot your lunch!”

”Eh, I’ll buy something Alfred. I need to g-”

”Watch where the fuck you’re going, brat.”

Surprised by the cruel words coming out the teen Bruce had bumped into, he spun around to get a look of him. The guy was tall with a slender body hidden under layers of fifty shades of purple, covering all of him except his face, neck and hands. He had dyed, greenish hair put into a sloppy bun, man bun Bruce recalled, and aggressive music shot out from his headphones.

”Oh, sorry. I didn’t see y-”

”For fuck’s sake, do I look like I care?”

”No, I simply-”

The boy grunted. He obviously didn’t want to be interrupted, whatever he was up to. ”Just keep on walking like the rest of them. Bye-bye.”

Bruce complied, walking out of the teens path as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, making other students go around him, not making a scene when purposely avoiding him. Bruce just then saw the cheap cigarette dangling between his bony fingers.

Well suit yourself, Bruce thought. He felt rather put off by the rude student so wasting more energy on someone like that felt like a total waste of time and effort.

Back turned away from the teen, resuming his journey to the main building. He felt a nasty look piercing his back. It felt like the boys eyes could kill, like a poisonous snake. Fighting the urge to take a final look at the boy, he pushed forwards, following the flow of walking students.

The piece of paper in Bruce's hand with notes scribbled over it could no longer be read, and to Bruce's usual luck students had started to go to their classes, disappearing into different doors.

After asking a couple of seniors for direction who simply laughed at him, he couldn’t help but to feel a sting of defeat.

Soon enough it was only Bruce left in the corridors, running around looking for anything. Anyone would also do. So when he heard a locker being opened and slammed shut, a rim of hope brightened his cloudy sky. So far this day was far from perfect but Bruce didn’t let that beat him down.

No, no, no, no! Bruce instantly recognized the fifty shades of purple and the horrible music shouting abusive words around the teen lurking the corridors.

”Erh, excuse me.”

The guy was taken aback before the stern expression of his clouded his appearance once again making him look slightly older and a whole lot scarier. ”You,” he simply said, ”haven’t you plagued me enough with your goodie-two-shoes face?”

Bruce had built himself up only to be beaten down again, feeling the rim of hope slipping his hands like smoke. ”Not quite. I wonder if you know the direction to the principal’s office.”

”Sure, it’s right by who-the-fuck-cares-”

”Joe, play nicely now.”

The teen named Joe must’ve been familiar with the voice as the loudest complaint Bruce had ever heard came from the boy. He threw his arms up in the air, spinning around to face the teacher standing behind both of them.

”Maroni. What the fuck do you want this time? I already sold you enough coke to last at least a week. Don’t tell me you ran out of money, as I recall you owing me about a grand-”

”Shut the hell up, you fucking brat! I should just have you gutted!”

For the last minute and a half both of them had entered an unspoken fight, none of them giving up the constant staring. Bruce simply stood there, trying to make himself heard and seen.

”Excuse me, sir, I was wondering if-”

”What?”, the teacher snapped at Bruce, obviously furious about losing the fight as a smug smile formed in the teenagers face, somehow making Joe look even meaner if even possible.

”As I said,” Bruce was just about to repeat himself for the eight thousand time, tired of being cut of, ”I’m wondering-”

”Principal’s office is down the hall, turn right and then you’re there. Hard to miss. I can follow you there, as Joe here should have a chat with Gordon as well.”

”This young man here? He’s only late because I bothered him. I must say, sir, you have a great taste in suits. Is that a hand-sewn Desmond Merrion Supreme Bespoke? Good choice, it’s always a pleasure to meet a man with good taste in suits. I myself prefer Dormeuil Vanquish II, but I guess it varies.”

The teacher seemed to have lost the ability to speak as he simply looked at the youngster, probably asking himself who the hell this kid was.

”I can’t recall seeing you here before, kid. Salvatore Maroni.”

”Nice meeting you, I’ve heard nothing but great things about your family and your company. Bruce Wayne.” Even if it wasn't completely true, the man liked having his ego fed, just like any other self-centered human being.

”Wayne? As in Wayne Enterprises? Son of Martha and Thomas Wayne?”

”Indeed, sir.”

Maroni’s face turned from sour to pure joy in a matter of seconds and he greeted the boy, shaking his hand a little bit longer than necessary, but Bruce played along.

”I’ve heard rumors but I never thought they were true. Welcome, to Gotham High. If you ever need anything, just let me know. Whatever it is.”

”Actually, there is something you could do for me. Would you do me the honor of showing me the way to class?”

Maroni put an arm around Bruce’s shoulders, pushing him forward in one of many corridors. When Bruce glanced over his shoulder, searching for the purple teen he found him to be long gone. Instead he listened to Maroni, ranting away, trying to make up for his first, bad impression.

 

* * *

 

Maroni had insisted on following Bruce into the classroom, as he personally wanted to introduce him to the class. No other choice than to accept the persistent teachers offer, Bruce had now been shown like a trophy in front of twenty other students.

Bruce needed no introduction though, everyone knew his name and face by heart. Paparazzis loved to put the youngster in the spotlight, snapping pictures of him whenever they had the chance. Alfred had come up with the brilliant idea of sunglasses a couple of years ago, so whenever they roamed Gotham City he had to wear them. Few photos of Bruce without glasses excited, so when a girl held up her iPhone and took a picture of him, he had flinched. Not trying to be rude or anything, it was just his immediate reaction.

Maroni had simply barked at the girl to lay it of before retreating, telling Bruce to find him if someone ever bothered him. Due to the reputation the Maroni family had, he would never dare to tell him any of his personal problems as he smiled and waved at the teacher.

When the class had been dismissed, a boy named Robin Wonder came up to him, offering him to eat lunch with him and his friend, Jason Todd. He politely accepted as he put down the book they read in class; William Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Bruce had already read the play twice as Shakespeare was one of Alfred’s favorite subjects.

Robin shamelessly started asking Bruce questions if he planned on joining any of the school’s clubs. He was startled as Bruce said no.

”Shame. We hoped we might convince you to join the school’s debate team. Both me and Jason got a spot. Weirdly enough we were the only ones who applied this term.”

”I’ll think about it, okay?”, Bruce told the boy as they showed him the way to the cafeteria, navigation their way between groups of teenagers, feeling curious eyes on him at all times.

”Promise?”

”Promise.”

Robin smiled in such a way Bruce couldn’t help but also smile.

”Wonder boy! Wait up, I need to talk to you.” Another student joined the trio just as they entered the cafeteria, mostly giving Robin and Jason attention. The boy wasn't rude or anything but Bruce still took offense. Instead he looked around the cafeteria, full of amazement. Students queued to get lunch on plastic trays, not the silver ones he and Alfred had at home. He figured he’ll try before dismissing them as gross and unhygienic. The room itself was big, the color scheme were different shades of white just to be contrasted by a huge flag, hanging in the center on the biggest wall. It was black and gold, resembling the school’s colors and various sport teams.

”Ey, Bruce. Bruce? We have to go, but help yourself to the queue, and we’ll catch up with you later. Don’t forget to think about the debate team, alright, see you!”, Robin yelled as he was going backwards trying to be heard, when his body was eaten by the crowd as he, Jason and the third boy disappeared, leaving Bruce alone queuing for food for the first time in his life. He felt lost, alone and on the verge of crying.

Approximately fifteen minutes later and answering the same question at least twenty times, he was finally at the end of the line, done queueing for a lifetime.

”What do you want, sweetheart?” The rather big lady patiently waited for Bruce to decide, she probably had seen the worried face on hundreds of students before.

”Erh, I’ll take, eh, that.” Bruce pointed to a pickle sandwich lying there, waiting for him to pick it.

”Here you go, sweetie,” before handing him the trey she continued, ”can I ask you a question, dear?”

"Sure.”

”Are you that Bruce Wayne kid?”

Never mind what he said before, now it was twenty one times answering the same question. ”Yes, I am. If you know my name it’s only fair if I know yours, too.”

The lady laughed, lightly shaking her head. ”It was a long time ago a student asked for my name. I’m Berta. Kane if last name’s important.”

”Berta Kane,” Bruce said out loud, putting the name in store for later encounters, ”I’ll remember you Berta. Have a nice day.”

”You too, sweetheart. That’s 3.25.” She handed him his plastic tray.

”Excuse me?”

”Food’s 3 dollars 25 cents.”

”Oh, of course.” Bruce panicked, the one thing he didn’t have with him was money. He had to put down they tray to turn his pockets inside out, only to find a packet of citrous flavored gum and a button.

”I’m sorry, but I don’t have any money-”

”Treats on me, kiddo.”

It was Joe standing behind him, music still shouting all sorts of noises and swear-words. He handed Berta five bucks and left, not giving Bruce a chance to think nor act. In all haste, he politely smiled at Berta before hurrying after the teenager. It wasn't hard to find Joe, the green hair gave him away immediately. He sat alone at a table, no-one even tried approaching the guy, rather standing up, eating their lunch than sitting at Joe’s table.

”Can I sit here?”

”Absolutely. Not. Fuck off, kid. I don’t have time or interest to take care of a lost puppy.”

Bruce wasn't surprised, but couldn’t help to just stand there glaring at the empty seats when the rest of the cafeteria around him was full.

”Why are you still here? Piss off.”

Sighing, Bruce did as he was told to. He searched for an empty seat in the overflowing cafeteria, making his way between students, chairs and tables.

”Friendly piece of advice; you don’t want to be associated with that freak. It’s bad for your reputation.”

A voice he had never heard before spoke to him. It belonged to a long, blonde guy sitting at a table, surrounded with what appeared to be his friends. Bruce had a hard time hearing what the guy said, so he went closer.

”I said; don’t hang around the Joker. He’ll drug you and rape you in some dark alley the first chance he gets.” The blonde still spoke to him, grinning widely when his friends howled with laughter.

”The Joker?” To say the least, Bruce was confused.

”The guy at the table, the one in purple. He’s the school’s freak, only comes to school to sell drugs and fuck around. Don’t bother befriending him or your pretty, spotless reputation will soon be a whole lot darker. It’s the truth, kid. Come over here, lemme’ introduce myself. I’m Harvey. Harvey Dent.”

He spoke of his name just as Bruce was supposed to know him, hear his name and tremble, maybe kiss the ground he touched too.

”Bruce Wayne.”

The table went quiet and before someone dared to breathe again, Bruce got to shake hands with all of them, when Harvey told Bruce to sit with them, Bruce tried to decline but Harvey wouldn’t hear any of it. One of his mates simply took another students chair, offering it to Bruce like a cat who brought home a living bird to its owner.

Harvey introduced him to everyone around the table. At the end of it, Bruce only remembered the name of Harvey’s stunning girlfriend, Rachel Dawes. She was a junior and not a senior as the rest of them, but Harvey didn’t seem to mind. She was the one who suggested that he should join them for a game of bowling the following day.

”Sure, why not?” Bruce couldn’t help to show all of his excitement trough smiling, promising to meet up with them after practice tomorrow. So it was decided, numbers were exchanged and Bruce took his tray standing up and heading to class, a lot happier now when things finally took a turn for the better.

 

* * *

 

English class was dismissed twenty minutes earlier than the schedule said, as Mrs. Jones had to attend one of her kids doctors appointments. None of the students made a fuss about it as they happily took the extra spare-time she gave them.

Robin and Jason had hurried off to the debate team, so he wandered the corridors of the school alone, trying to find his locker. On the key and tag he’d gotten in the mail a week earlier said ’no. 1939’. Following the numbers, eyeing them up and down was currently at number 1045. He had time to kill as he expected Alfred to arrive in thirty minutes. He didn’t text the butler as he could have some time exploring on his own. Most students had already gone home or had practice so beside a teacher or two the corridors were quite empty.

Bruce eventually found locker number 1939, unlocked it just to dump the Hamlet book on the top shelf. He noticed it was the locker beside a water fountain and the library but just before the emergency exit, leading down to the first floor.

His lockers inside was worn out from years of use, every past owners name written with a permanent marker and a couple of old dried up chewing gums used to hold up a gym sock on the lockers inside. He didn’t bother removing it. He closed the locker and made sure the padlock was actually locked before finding his way down the halls.

Bruce had killed twenty minutes looking for his locker so he figured he might as well go outside to wait for Alfred. It was a warm summer day outside, probably one of the few left of this year. Soon autumn would knock on the doorstep chasing summer away. Bruce couldn’t wait for Halloween to come, followed by Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's Eve.

Bruce assumed Alfred would come to the same spot where he had dropped off the youngster, so that’s where he headed. It was the one place he found without having to spend half a day looking.

He quickly found the place at the front gates where another student sat in the recently cut grass, smoking. Even though it was eighty degrees outside Joe still sat in his purple hoodie. He took absolutely no notice when Bruce folded his sweater before sitting down beside the teenager.

”What do you want, kiddo? Thought I made it quite clear; you can’t sit with me.”

”Thank you, for earlier. Paying for my food, I mean.”

”You know, for a rich spoiled brat to go around without any money is not the most common thing to encounter.”

”Erh, I didn’t know you paid for food.”

”Of course you didn’t. Bet your mommy and daddy forgot to tell you.”

”You know, for an ignorant person you’re kind of rude.”

Joe laughed, lighting another cigarette offering it to Bruce as some sick act of kindness. ”You smoke, kiddo?”

Bruce said no, no he didn’t smoke. Joe laughed even more, telling him of course he didn’t smoke.

”Aren’t you afraid of getting cancer or something?”, Bruce asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

”Neh, I’m gonna die soon enough anyways. What’s the point of living long enough to die of cancer? There’s better ways.” It sounded like that was an issue Joe used to think about. Bruce had no idea how to keep this guy talking, frustration growing with each second he spent with him. ’Just leave’ he told himself but couldn’t get his body to move.

Fortunately, Bruce didn’t have to be rude about it when he finally left. Alfred pulled up the Bentley at the side-walk, waving at Bruce. Bruce thankfully greeted his butler for saving him from the stiff conversation.

”See you around?”

”Adios, kiddo.”

Bruce jumped into the car, smiling when Alfred demanded a hug.

”Tell me all about it, Master Bruce. How was your first day of school?”, Alfred seemed in no rush to get home, suspiciously glaring at Joe.

”Exhausting to say the least.”

”He’s a friend of yours?”

”Erh, yeah. I think so.”

”He want’s a lift somewhere?”

”No,” Bruce said while buckling his seatbelt as Alfred drove off towards the manor. Honestly, Bruce thought Alfred would comment on the young man still sitting in the grass smoking, asking how they had met, soon demanding to see his police register. But he didn’t.

The rest of the car ride Bruce spoke and Alfred listened, occasionally asking questions wanting Bruce to elaborate some parts of his day. All thoughts of Joe and Harvey, Robin and Jason disappeared when he spent the afternoon playing card with Alfred, convincing him to order pizza. It was like nothing had ever changed.


	2. We Don't Have To Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter of Gotham County High School is out now, here for y'all to read it. Turned out to be over 6,6k. Let me know if any of you finds it annoying having the text conversations on different sides, I just imagined how it would look on a phone. Speaking of texts: the antagonist has been introduced. I won't be a party pooper so if you want to know who it is you gonna have to wait a couple of chapters.
> 
> You should listen to the songs I mention at the end notes, lots of them will be kind of cryptic and shit, revealing what might come. And all of them are good as I'm the one picking them.
> 
> Don't waste more time reading this, go on, read the chapter and tell me what you think in the comments afterwards. Kudos and comments are my motivation :>

”Master Bruce? It’s your turn.” Alfred made himself well-remembered as Bruce returned from thoughts, considering his moves while studying the cards in his hand, deciding to raise the pot which lied over the countertop, now counting 1$ and 19 cents. He knew Alfred was bluffing, the old man had maximum two pairs- maybe even three of a kind, but Bruce didn’t doubt the feeling in his gut.

At the end of it, Alfred had bluffed. Bruce kept raising the pot, trusting his cards to give him the victory and when it was time to round up the game of poker, he won. Alfred had had three of a kind; tens. Imagine the look on the butlers face drop when Bruce brought it home with a full house.

Lazily shuffling the cards before putting them down into the transparent package, Bruce was about to put it away when Alfred spoke.

”Don’t forget the Jokers.”

Bruce recalled when the blonde from yesterday, Harvey Dent, had referred to Joe as _t_ _he Joker_ while sitting around the table in the cafeteria. He hesitated before grabbing the two forgotten cards, studying the ill-grinning figure, reminding himself they also belonged with the rest of the cards. No matter what, they had to be included and accepted into the game.

He took the mason jar they stored the cents and dollar bills in, all counted roughly 5$, and put down it with the cards into a drawer in the kitchen. The space smelled of pepperoni pizza and cleaning detergent, kind of off-putting but Bruce liked it. After all it smelled home and home smelled safe.

”Did you get any homework today?” asked Alfred as he returned to sitting down but this time at the same side as Bruce.

Bruce shook his head, but then said, ”Mrs. Jones, the english teacher, wanted me to read up on Hamlet and when I told her I had already read the play twice she just smiled. So I guess not.”

Alfred’s face turned into the same smile Mrs. Jones had back in school; a tiny hint of joy shining through. He was obviously pleased when his master did good in school, thereof the pizza for dinner. Otherwise Alfred would never have accepted such junk food ever finding its way into _his_ kitchen. ”I’m glad, Master Bruce. Maybe school wasn’t such a bad choice after all.”

Bruce hummed in agreement as he sunk his teeth into his third slice of pizza, thinking of tomorrow. He couldn’t help but to wonder what was in store for him, if all days would be as good as this one… Yeah, in that case he could easily live through three years of high school. 

Jim Gordon, the principal, had suggested instead of starting of as a freshman Bruce should just jump onto the sophomore year from the beginning. Alfred had been thrilled when his tutoring methods were praised by the principal, agreeing that Bruce should indeed advance a year.

”If you don’t mind, Master Bruce, I’ll head for the TV. Super Butlers new season begins tonight at 9 o'clock and I’d rather not miss it.”

”Oh, yeah. Sure Alfred. I’ll just go to bed, didn’t get much sleep the other night.”

After wishing each other good-night they went separate directions; Alfred heading for the manors home cinema in the east wing and Bruce took flight upstairs, closing the bedroom door behind him.

Bruce quickly changed from the skinny jeans and the white shirt to something cosier, his black Adidas sweatpants and a loose-fitting tee did just fine. He folded the clothes and put them back into the closet, realizing Alfred had cleaned up the mess the youngster had left behind himself yesterday. Darn it, he was supposed to have done that today. Looked like the butler had beaten him to it, _again_.

He mentally alerted himself to fix something for the butler; maybe he could call around and see it his ’ol’ pals’ wanted to come for a game of poker Friday night. Yeah, he should really remember to do that.

The phone still in the bag beeped, alerting the youngster of its existence. Bruce brought the bag into bed as he opened it to find the phone lit at the bottom of the backpack. The screen told him he had four unread messages, three from Harvey Dent and another one from an unknown number.

**Harvey Dent, September 2nd, 7:34 PM**  
hey bro u still up for blowing tomorrow??

**Harvey Dent, September 2nd, 7:35 PM**  
omg i meant bowling* my bad

**Harvey Dent, September 2nd, 8:57 PM**  
just lemme now ok

Bruce chuckled at Harvey’s bad grammar, as he typed a reply on his phone.

**Bruce Wayne, September 2nd, 8:58 PM**  
Hey mate. Yeah, still up for bowling. I’ll be  
at the front gate waiting for you guys :)

After pressing send Bruce turned his attention to the text with the unknown number. Maybe it was someone of Harvey’s friends he had forgotten to add to his contacts, he couldn’t remember as the whole lunch were kind of one big blur.

**Unknown number, September 2nd, 5:02 PM**  
You should be more careful who you give your  
number to. Perverts and people of that nature  
might take advantage of the situation.

Bruce mouth had turned dry in an instant, leaving the teenager to the sound of his own heart pounding in his chest. Should he answer? Or should he ignore it? Maybe he should just tell Alfred, but bothering the butler with insignificant problems also felt bad as he watched his series now. No, Bruce had to handle this himself.

**Bruce Wayne, September 2nd, 9:03 PM**  
Who is this?

It barely took the person sitting on the other side of the line a minute to answer, making Bruce jump when the phone beeped in his sweaty palms.

**Unknown number, September 2nd, 9:04 PM**  
Figured you’d know by now as you took  
four hours to respond. Tick tack, time’s  
running out

 **Bruce Wayne, September 2nd, 9:05 PM**  
What are you talking about? I’ll call the  
cops.

 **Unknown number, September 2nd, 9:07 PM  
** No you won’t. 

**Bruce Wayne, September 2nd, 9:08 PM**  
Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.

 **Unknown number, September 2nd, 9:10 PM  
** It would ruin the fun in the game.

Bruce grunted. He knew he shouldn’t talk to whoever kept mocking him, but he couldn’t help but feel curious about this so called game. The phone beeped again, screen lighting up.

**Unknown number, September 2nd, 9:11 PM  
** Tick tack

 **Bruce Wayne, September 2nd, 9:12 PM**  
What game? What are you talking about?  
Why is the time running up?

**Unknown number, September 2nd, 9:14 PM**  
Knock knock

**Bruce Wayne, September 2nd, 9:15 PM**  
I don’t do jokes

 **Unknown number, September 2nd, 9:17 PM  
** But I do so one more time. knock knock

**Bruce Wayne, September 2nd, 9:18 PM**  
Who’s there?

**Unknown number, September 2nd, 9:19 PM**  
butter

**Bruce Wayne, September 2nd, 9:20 PM**  
Butter who?

 **Unknown number, September 2nd, 9:21 PM  
** Butter not tell you!

**Bruce Wayne, September 2nd, 9:22 PM**  
Ha. ha. Very funny

**Bruce Wayne, September 2nd, 9:29 PM**  
Where did you go? Ran out of jokes?

**Bruce Wayne, September 2nd, 9:34 PM**  
Ignore me then

**Bruce Wayne, September 2nd, 9:45 PM**  
Fine. I’ll just block you 

**Unknown number, September 2nd, 9:46 PM**  
No you won’t

Bruce threw his phone into the soft mattress, even more frustrated now. This person was a twisted bastard, trying to manipulate him sitting behind a screen. _Brave_ , Bruce thought picking up the phone again. It would have been so easy to press _block contact_ , but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had just wasted forty-five minutes of his life obsessing over a cowards identity and so he made a deal with himself to figure out whoever this person was. 

The screen still showed no new messages when he put it in the charger after he returned from his nightly bathroom routine. Bruce stripped down to boxers before crawling under the cover, deciding to read a bit before saying good-bye to this day. Tomorrow it would no longer be his first day in school, it would be the second day and soon enough they would just blend into one another. He wanted to keep this feeling forever, bottle it up and store it for later use; it was the feeling of not being alone anymore.  


Maybe he had made a decision too quickly, maybe he actually wanted to extend his borrowed time.

 

* * *

 

The moment Alfred opened the door to the youngsters room he was already greeted by a good-morning. Bruce sat up in the bed, having a few pillows tucked behind himself and the wooden headboard, reading. The table-lamp on the nightstand was lit, making all sorts of shadows in the room.

”Up all ready, Master Bruce?”

It took a minute for Bruce to respond but once he did, he put down the book he had just finished. ”Yeah, woke up about 4 AM. Thought I’d read some and now I need to find a new book somewhat _close_ to the brilliance of this one.”

”So it was good then?”

Bruce eyed the cover of the paperback. It was a dirty blue-grey color with bright, eye-catching trees giving the book a three-dimensional look, the title reflected throughout the road between the trees. ”Yeah, and Corman McCarthy did such a great job writing this book.”

”I’m glad the book was to your liking Master Bruce, but forgive me for changing the subject; are you getting enough sleep? I can call for the therapist at High Garden or doctor Aesop, I just don’t want it to come to the point when-”

”I’m fine, Alfred. Let’s eat breakfast.”

Alfred was taken aback when the youngster cut him off mid-sentence, but understanding as he was the butler let go of the matter. He would just have to start bringing Bruce his special tea before bedtime from now on. ”Yes. Let’s eat breakfast, most important meal of the day.”

Once Alfred was out of the room Bruce could bring up the phone he had hidden under the cover, unlocking it and there is was, staring back at him. He had gotten another text at 4 AM and that was true cause for his early rising. He read it over and over again, it still made no sense.

**Unknown number, September 3rd, 4:08 AM  
** I’ll interpret the silence as game on

He still hadn’t answered the unknown number. He simply lacked the words to say anything, or maybe he confused the feeling with him being a wuss. Probably, but he wasn't about to admit that.

Dressing himself in under five minutes he chose a pair of dark blue khakis and a white, simple tee. He took a leatherjacket down from its hanger, the one with the shinier brown leather, for tonight. If the weather turned bad Bruce didn’t want to be the one freezing his ass off.

Down in the kitchen Alfred’s face got even wrinklier when he smiled at the youngster arriving just in time for breakfast. Bruce usually never thought of his butler as being old, Alfred just kind of looked like that from the beginning of his days until now. Nothing had changed from the day they first had met, maybe Alfred’s hair had turned more white than silver now when he thought about it.

On the counter stood no longer a pizza-box but three small plates. One filled with pancakes, syrup pouring down its sides. The second was Alfred’s special toast; toast, layer of cheese, layer of scrambled egg, layer of tomatoes, another layer of egg and finishing of with another toasted slice of bread. The third one looked the most appealing to Bruce, a regular slice of toast with salmon and scrambled egg peaked off with a pinch of parsley.

It was just as delicious as it had looked. Now Bruce sat eating from stack of pancakes, mostly because it was pancakes. The unspoken rule of breakfast was to at least eat one pancake and now Bruce finished his second. When finished, he licked the tip of his fingers free from the gooey syrup.

”Why can’t you just stop with that childish demeanor and just wash your hands like a normal grown-up would do?” Alfred loaded the dishwasher while he lectured Bruce for the so called ’childish’ behavior.

”That’s where you’re wrong, old man. Licking syrup from ones hands are like a ritual, some people sacrifice to God and I sacrifice to my taste buds. You should now, you’ve been a child too. Long time ago, I know, but don’t you remember?”

Alfred playfully whipped the towel he used drying his hands at Bruce, missing big time, but they still laughed together afterwards. 

”Out of my kitchen young man, go brush your teeth. I’ll be outside waiting in the car.”

Bruce was left alone in the kitchen, blinking through the happy-tears in his eyes trying to calm down. He had heard Alfred laughing too, even after he headed for the garage.

10 minutes later they sat in the same car as yesterday but this morning nothing was left unspoken. Alfred knew he got to keep his youngster and Bruce knew his butler wouldn’t leave this time either. Both men sitting quiet in the Cadillac knew this, it was so obvious none of them worried.

The ride to school was pleasant, no traffic stockings and once they arrived they hugged, neither of them letting go. Yesterday it had been a pat on the back, now the butler demanded a proper hug.

”Have a nice day in school Master Bruce, I’ll see you 4 o’clock?”

”4 o’clock it is.”

Bruce stepped out of the car and waved Alfred off and when the car was out of sight he heard his name being called. It was Rachel, Harvey Dent’s girlfriend. She jogged to catch up with him, holding onto her turquoise bag. Her soft, brown curls framed her face in a flattering way. She worn the same outfit as yesterday; a knee-length black skirt with a white shirt, making her so professional but also so casual. Rachel had mastered _dressing to impress_ Bruce thought, smiling.

”Hey Bruce, excited about today?” Her smile was genuine, caring.

”Yeah, obviously.” Shit. He had forgotten to tell Alfred about the bowling. He had to text the butler about it but not right now as Rachel yanked their arms together. She dragged him across campus, orienting them through the corridors and students in school not letting go until they were on the other side of Gotham High, at the enormous football pitch. 

”Here’s where we practice, both the football team and the cheerleaders. If you have time why won’t you come and watch?”

”Erh, I don’t know-”

”There will be cute girls running around in short skirts, why are you even _considering_ my offer?” Rachel giggled, looking adorable. Bruce couldn’t help but to see the rings under her eyes, making her look tired and… even sad.

”I don’t know…”

”There will be big, ripped guys running around in tight pants too, you know. Whatever floats your boat!”

Bruce went from pale to tomato-red before Rachel could even giggle, almost jumping up and down of excitement. 

”I knew it, I knew it, _I knew it_! You’re gay, right? I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being gay, but me and Ivy discussed it and with you’re level of personal grooming, you can’t not be gay. And you-”, she stopped just when Bruce was about to cry, ”oh, I’m so sorry Bruce, I didn’t mean to step on anyone’s feelings and especially not yours and-”

Before Bruce could act, he was now trapped in a warm hug. Rachel was short so her arms were locked around his ribs, not planning on letting him go. She smelled nice, a combination from her shampoo and the sweet perfume she worn.

”It’s okay, I just… Eh, I guess I haven’t come to terms with it myself, so eh. Yeah.” He couldn’t seem to find his english vocabulary. It must’ve fled, running for its survival. Rachel ended the hug and stepped out of his personal bubble, giving him space and time to breathe.

”I won’t tell anyone, pinky promise.”

Even though Bruce practically didn’t know Rachel it still felt comforting. She was the first person to ever hear his big secret, not even his beloved butler knew about him not being straight. Bruce knew Alfred had nothing against the lgbt-community, the butler had told him so himself while watching _Say Yes To The Dress_ when a lesbian couple entered the bridal store, embracing all the pretty dresses they tried on.

”Thank you, I just don’t think I’m ready to come out yet.”

”It’s okay. There’s never the right time, that’s what mom told me. She came out a year ago and now she’s happily married to her boss.”

”What about your dad?”

”They were already divorced when she came out, so it went from casual talk when he picked me up Friday night and dropping me off Saturday night to me having to take the bus back and fourth. And then-”

Rachel kept talking the panic away, never failing to make him smile and laugh. They finally parted when she let go of his arm outside of his classroom, with a dorky smile all over his face he was ready to start his second day of school.

 

* * *

 

After chemistry in the morning, math was next on the schedule. The course turned out to be far easier than Bruce had envisaged. Mr. Davis was an older gentleman, almost the same age as Alfred with grey hair, a big beard and a slightly crooked nose. The red hints in his beard spoke of him being a red-head in his younger days. He was kind and at the same time strict. Robin once spun around, mouthing a mean word about the teacher. Bruce had shrugged, continuing with the exercises in the book. 

When Mr. Davis dismissed the class Robin once again spun around towards Bruce.

”So, have you decided?”

”Decided what?”, asked Bruce while putting away his book and notepad into his bag.

”Hello? The debate team? We meet up right after school, I and Jason are so pumped, we’re going on our first competition next Saturday. We won’t be competing though cuz’ chief wants us to get a hang of it first.”

”Was that today? Eh, I kind of promised Harvey Dent I would hang out with him and a couple of others after-”

”Harvey Dent? _The_ Harvey Dent, the senior?” The girl sitting in the same row as Bruce in class joined the conversation, her words full with doubt as she wide-eyed looked at him.

”Yeah. No big deal, we’re just going-”

”The last time Harvey Dent _spoke_ to a sophomore him and his gang of football players assaulted a sophomore in the boy’s bathroom. Apparently the poor kid had asked Rachel out the hour before it happened.”

Bruce felt both Robin and the girl which name he had forgotten looking at him, waiting for a reaction. ”Well… what happened to the boy? You can’t just tell a story rounding it up like that.”

”He transferred to another school. I don’t think he snitched on Harvey though, that was probably a good move. Harvey walked out of the principal’s office once again proving he’s the schools dictator. What happens here is all Harvey’s business.”

Bruce had a hard time believing that Harvey could ever do something like that; assaulting a boy because he asked his girlfriend out? It sounded like a bad rumor, containing merely half of the truth. If he ever got the chance to ask, he would. 

”Anyways Robin, I can’t today. Some other day, okay? Maybe I can come to your game next weekend.”

Robin’s expression brightened up, nodding. ”Promise?”

”Promise.”

”Promise for real this time?”

”Pinky promise and all of that.”

Robin looked pleased as they headed for their lockers. Robin had number 1882, not too far away from Bruce’s so they accompanied each other, talking about everything except the debate team and Harvey Dent. Robin wanted to know what Bruce thought of things like politics, superheroes and weirdly enough, turtles. Afterwards he told Bruce he had one at home he had named Michelangelo in his early childhood, honoring a member of the Ninja Turtles. Bruce even got to see a video of Michelangelo eating a thin slice of cucumber Robin had recorded using his phone. The babbling boy kept going on about his turtle when they queued for lunch in the cafeteria.

”What’s for lunch today, Berta?” Bruce smiled at the lady from yesterday, happy to see her again. 

She returned his smile, telling him anything would do except the overcooked meat-stew. He agreed, it did not look appetizing. Bruce finally settled for another sandwich, a small bag of carrots and a mini milk-carton to drink. Robin took the same but instead of milk he wanted a Sprite. This time Bruce could pay for both of them, lightening up Robin’s day when he didn’t have to pay for his meal.

”So were do you want to sit?”

”There’s chief, from the debate team. It looks kind of crowded so maybe we should just sit there.” Bruce finally got a look of this person called chief. He was on the verge of chubby, face kind of flushed. He looked just like a normal student, laughing along with his friends and eating a bag of salted chips for lunch.

”Yeah, sure-”

”Bruce! Bruce, over here! No, over _here_ **.** ” Among the sea of faces, he found the one he was searching for. It was Rachel Dawes from this morning, sitting surrounded by the football team, including Harvey Dent.

”Eh, you go sit with them and we’ll… I’ll catch up with you before class. OK?” Robin’s face spoke for itself. He wasn't ever to go near Harvey Dent or anyone from the football team. Ever. 

”Okay,” Bruce answered already going over to the round table overcrowded with football players and cheerleaders. He immediately got a chair offered by a guy who had to hurry of to class.

The group of students made Bruce feel welcome and in tune with the group, no-one questioned why there was a sophomore sitting among them. Most of them were rather curious about the newly adopted kid but only Rachel and Harvey dared to ask the young billionaire what was on their minds.

”Is it true you have five cars?” Harvey sat leaning on his elbows, eyes studying him with admire and jealousy. He had finished his meal and was now on a mission; interrogating the newest and youngest member of his group.

”Eh, yeah.”

”I had to work my ass of last summer to afford one and it’s already falling apart. It’s a shitty, rusty Volkswagen. Bet you have cars with a little more power.”

”Not a single one under 250 h.p.”

Rachel laughed at his high standards, ”Do you even have a license yet?”

”Technically, no. My birthday’s in a couple of months but until then Alfred drives me.”

”Who’s Alfred?”, she asked.

”He’s uhm, my butler.”

”He has a _butler_.” The bunch laughed at Rachel's comment but Bruce took no offense. Not when she was the one making the comment, he just joined the guffaw not thinking more about it. 

Most of the questions were based on some article that had gone around the weeks before it was confirmed Bruce was going to Gotham High. Some local magazine had leaked it, going on and on about the young billionaire finally coming down to ’ordinary’ people’s level. Yep, that’s what the magazine said the group recalled, making him blush.

”So why _did_ you start here? I bet you have enough money to buy whatever school you’d fancy. Gotham High isn’t really the best school around town.” Rachel was the one asking questions now, leaving Harvey quiet waiting for him to answer.

”Erh, I… I… I figured it would be easier to blend in at a bigger school where not so many people knew me.”

Rachel detected the lie in his answer, ”Take a look around, Bruce. Everyone here knows your name and face from the second they’re born. Rumors travel quick here, so all of them are waiting for something to leak to the press. Some of them might even leak things that are not true simply because they feel like it.” 

She was right. Bruce already knew all of these things as Alfred had informed him about the human nature’s cravings for their 15 minutes of fame once in a lifetime, eating away at the rich and honest people. He just shrugged, letting them know he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. When he were ready she would get the truth, but for now that’s what she got.

”My class starts in 10 minutes, I’ll better go.” 

”Okay, see you after school then.”

Bruce left the bunch carrying his tray to the stand where you were supposed to leave it after you’ve finished eating.

_ Text Alfred. Text Alfred. Text Alfred. Text Alfred. Text Alfred. Text Alfred. _

He couldn’t forget it one more time or the butler would show up finding no traces of Bruce at the regular place. The butler would for sure alert the national guards, giving himself a heart-attack while convincing himself Bruce was dead, never to return.

**Bruce Wayne, September 3rd, 12:02 PM  
** You don’t have to pick me up today,  
going bowling with some friends  
Sleeping at the penthouse tonight

 **Alfred, September 3rd, 12:04 PM  
** Good luck Master Bruce, not that you  
need it

Bruce laughed after reading Alfred's reply, he was just about to reply himself when he bumped into someone’s shoulder.

”Sorry, I didn’t see y-” Oh. The pair of green eyes piercing his head didn’t look happy, they had a rather I’ll-kill-you-when-you-sleep kind of expression. 

”You need to stop running into me, kiddo. People might start to talk, and not in the nice kind of way you’re used to,” commented the green-haired teen while removing his headphones from his head, letting them hang around his neck. Today the music sounded a little bit more light-hearted than yesterday morning, only occasional songs still shouting verbal abuse all around the teen.

”I don’t care what people say.”

”You sure about that? You can’t think of _one_ person who would dissuade you from hanging around me? Come _onnn_. Not one sorry-ass student at this school? Okay, then I’ll help you. For 10 points; he’s a mutual friend of ours. Well, now when I think about it I think he said _fiend_ and not _friend_ last time we encountered…” Joe’s smile wasn't a pleasant one when he saw Bruce get a hang of it, figuring out who this mutual friend of theirs were.

”Harvey Dent?”

”Bingo! Everyone, this one is a smart one!” grinned the teen a little bit too loud so a few students turned around, giving him weird looks, ”If you’re lucky you might even graduate from this shit-hole, kiddo. Keep the smart up, or you should start practicing giving the teachers free blowjobs on your spare-time. Helped me, and I only relied on my skills and good looks. You have the money so they might even settle for a-”

”Shut. Up.”

”Am I supposed to feel threatened by _you_? You’re just a spoiled, rich brat sliding you’re way through life.”

Before Bruce could react Joe lied on the floor, face covered in his own blood. His lower lip was bleeding heavily from the punch Bruce had placed right over the teens chin. Joe felt his lip, it obviously hurt as the teen hissed. Bruce didn’t think it were from the pain though. Joe didn't seem like the person who cared for pain.

As the adrenaline washed out from Bruce’s system a few students had gathered in a bunch trying to get a glimpse of what happened between the school’s freak and the billionaire. Mumbles filled the corridor but no-one moved to help the teen up.

Bruce stared at his fist in disgust, thoughts louder than ever in his head making him feel slightly nauseous. He was the first of the two to move, offering Joe help to get up. Believe it or not, the teen actually pushed himself up with Bruce’s help.

”I knew you weren’t like them, kiddo. That’s a good thing. You should be proud of that.”, laughed Joe as he gave Bruce a hard pat on the back. When Bruce ran after him, he was already gone, leaving Bruce to deal with the crowd alone.  


 

* * *

Words did indeed travel fast at Gotham High. The moment a very curious Robin found him grabbing a book, notes and pencil case from locker number 1939 he threw himself over Bruce, asking a million questions in hyper-speed. Bruce only got half of what came out of his mouth.

”Is it true you knocked out Jonah Ker?”, ”Is it true his head split open?”, ”Did he really cry?”, ”Is it true he offered you a blowjob?” were just a few of the questions Robin demanded an answer to, barely twenty minutes after the incident. Bruce laughed, shaking his head as none of the statements were true. But the fact that half of the school seemed to know what _didn’t_ happen, he put little faith into Robin believing anything he said.

”Is that really what people are saying? Shit, I need to find him… I can’t just let him think I spread all these rumors. I tried looking for him but he’s nowhere to be found.”

Robin almost looked disappointed when Bruce denied doing any of the things to Joe or vice versa, making Bruce feel miserable. He had looked all over the place, but not knowing most of the hallways and possible hiding-spots he had failed, just running around in circles before heading towards his locker accepting the defeat. 

”You don’t _find_ the Joker. No-one even knows where he lives except maybe the Quinzel-girl who stalks him around school. Bet he’s sniffing drugs on a toilet or something.” Robin had no problems accepting the preconceived opinions about Joe being on drugs 24/7 and it made Bruce feel even worse about the situation.

”Come on, Mr. Sorensen’s here. Lesson’s ’bout to start,” called Robin without hanging around for Bruce to follow him through the door. He clenched his book entering the classroom while twenty pair of eyes praised him for doing something they didn’t have the guts to do and Bruce regretted deeply. 

Let’s say it wasn't a pleasant five minutes before the lesson finally got started. The actual lesson wasn't bad; Mr. Sorensen had done a great job explaining the laws of physics with one of his many demonstrations, summarizing it in text on the whiteboard afterwards. They also started writing on an assignment due next week. 

One and a half hour later Bruce had lived through his very first physics lesson ever, quite pleased how it turned out. He was happier about being let out of school so he could get out of there, avoiding the looks and whispers. Robin still asked about what happened and Bruce explained it all over, probably five times. He just didn’t accept the true version, preferring the one when Joe ran away crying, skull slit in two after being neglected giving Bruce a free blowjob. It wasn't even funny anymore.

”See you tomorrow, dragon-slayer.” Oh, yeah, Bruce had gotten a new nickname from Robin. He tried convincing Bruce it suited him; Dragon-slayer. Bruce couldn’t be bothered to argue about it.

Robin was a nice fellow; looking a little bit childish in his short, dark hair and chubby cheeks, always wearing something that looked taken straight out of a comic-book. Bruce liked having a friend but could sell him to the lowest bidder when the boy didn’t back off his case. Robin never seemed to get the small hints Bruce left for him to find, perhaps he simply ignored them.

”Yeah, bye.”

The clock turned 4 PM before Bruce got a text, his phone buzzing in his pocket letting him know Harvey and the others had finished their practice and were heading straight for the showers. The text came from Harvey’s number but assuming from the correct grammar and message ending with _xo_ he reckoned Rachel had sent the text.

He replied, saying he already was at the gates waiting for them to pick him up.

The hours Bruce had spent alone he had been productive; he had called all of Alfred’s ’ol’ pals’ informing them about the upcoming poker game at the manor Friday 8 o’clock. He had gotten all of them to promise not to blow up his surprise to the unknowing butler. Other than that he had played various games on his phone. Candy Crush didn’t let Bruce finish level 140, the pink mascot just kept mocking him through always telling him _Game over, want to try again?_ and after a couple of rounds he put down the phone back into his pocket. It wasn't long before Harvey, Rachel and the others came. 

”Oi, Bruce! Why the hell did you beat up Joker for? And _without_ me? I’m hurt.” howled the blonde, demanding a high-five from the youngster. The only ones who didn’t laugh were Rachel and Bruce, faces frowning in unison.

”Erh, I didn’t-”

”You need to tell me all about it.”

”There’s not much to tell-”

”No, none of that. Is it true he cried? I can’t even imagine the Joker _crying_.”

”He didn’t, he just-”

”Screamed? Wailed? Squealed? Come on Bruce, give us the details.”

”Okay. I’ll give you all the juicy parts if you win today. Otherwise my lips will be sealed.”

Harvey smirked, ”Challenge accepted.”

 

* * *

 

”How the _fuck_ did you score 214 points? I barely got over 180.” Harvey had stared at the scores printed on a paper while changing back from the borrowed bowling-shoes to the regular ones, all the time while the group ate of the taco buffet the bowling saloon served and all the way out to his rusty Volkswagen. He refused accepting the fact that he had lost and wasn't going to hear any of the ’juicy’ details Bruce had promised him before.

”Guess I’m just better than you.”

”Or someone’s been fiddling with my bowling ball.”

”Or you just suck at bowling, babe”, teased Rachel giving Harvey a kiss on the cheek, squeezing his upper arm. She was the trios ray of sunshine. The others had gone home after bowling, not wanting to eat tacos, leaving Bruce, Harvey and Rachel on their own.

It was a starry night outside, not a cloud at the sky blocking the beautiful moon looking down at Gotham City. The regular sounds could be heard; sirens somewhere far in the distance, cars, people always on the move. Bruce was thankful he had brought a jacket. It wasn't cold enough to really need it but not warm enough to go without.

Harvey climid in behind the wheel in the funny-smelling car, Rachel in the passenger-seat and Bruce got the whole backseat to himself, buckling one of the many seat-belts around his body and off they went, cruising the streets of Gotham City doing what teenagers do best; fooling around, the invincible feeling never ending. 

Bruce was the one guiding the blonde telling Harvey when to turn left or right. After a few roadblocks and wrong turns Harvey finally parked outside of a huge skyscraper, stretching its greatness up over the surrounding buildings.

”You live _here_?” both Rachel and Harvey asked.

”No, I’m only here whenever the manor doesn’t feel appealing enough. I’d better go now. See you tomorrow?”

Quiet greeted the youngster as he hung up the jacket on the clothes-rack and carelessly kicking of the shoes. He didn’t caring about them and the bag being all over the place now when he was alone and had no butler there to nag about it. Instead he took time feeling out the place again; the view stunned him as usual, Gotham’s center lighting up at ground-level, various office buildings lit when the workers stayed in late working. It was just as he had left it a couple of weeks ago before he traveled half across the world to Europe.

Now what?

He didn’t have any homework, no other work for Wayne Enterprise as Lucius Fox had stepped in as vice-president taking a load of the students shoulders. Maybe he should check his e-mails if there was anything of interest? Couldn’t hurt.

Bruce fetched his phone from the bag by the clothes-rack before hurrying over to the sofa once again, throwing himself on the couch unlocking his phone.

There were no new e-mails just a text from the unknown number, provoking the youngster with its bare existence.  He certainly didn’t like the unpleasant feeling he got, clenching to his throat.

 **Unknown number, September 4th, 4:55 PM**  
Touch him again and you will be one pretty  
corpse in the morgue

**Bruce Wayne, September 4th, 10:01 PM  
** What happened is none of your business

**Unknown number, September 4th, 10:03 PM  
** On the contrary, it is. But I’ll rephrase my last  
text: touch him and your little secret won’t be  
a secret for much longer. tick tack

**Bruce Wayne, September 4th, 10:04 PM  
** What secret? What are you talking about?

 **Unknown number, September 4th, 10:06 PM  
** The press would pay a good amount for your  
little gay-secret. 

**Bruce Wayne, September 4th, 10:07 PM  
** You have no proof

**Unknown number, September 4th, 10:10 PM  
** So it’s true then

 **Bruce Wayne, September 4th, 10:11 PM  
** Stop turning my words against me.  
Kindly fuck off

 **Unknown number, September 4th, 10:12 PM  
** It will be our little secret for as long as you stay  
the fuck away from him. I’ll know if you don’t

Bruce knew this wasn’t Rachel texting. She had promised not to tell anyone, and Bruce believed her. He tried recalling if someone else was around this morning. Maybe? Maybe not? He hadn’t been observing any of the surroundings as he had been fighting against the urge of crying his eyes out and calling Alfred to pick him up, promptly.

The youngster read the conversation over and over again, at the end of it nothing made sense. The only person who could give him answers was Joe, and truthfully Bruce didn’t feel like confronting the teen, both apologizing and expecting one in return. But he had to. First thing tomorrow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jokers music of the day: We Don't Have To Dance - Andy Black


End file.
